Anger
by v.m.m
Summary: Milliardo/Zechs kills the last person responsible for the destruction of his family


Anger  
By: Victus Mors Mortis  
  
A/N: Warning I was beyond slightly pissed when I wrote this, and I had Nickelback blaring so loud that it was shaking the house, as well as some Metallica, and what hard rock, "hate the world" music I could find. So expect some major anger. Also this is not my normal style, or genre, so for those of you who normally read my stuff, this is a little bit different, and if you don't, oh well.............   
  
Aiming the gun he pulled the trigger, the faint click it made a satisfactory sound as the body infront of him dropped to the ground. The bullet had hit its mark, going straight through the middle of the man's forhead. Blood, skull, and brains covered the floor around the dead man, who was lucky enough to die in moments. Unlike his parents who had burned to death.   
  
His lips curled in a cynical smile. Revenge was finally complete. The sole man responsible for his family's demise was now laying sprawled in his own blood on the floor. He had been merciful. Could have had a little fun, but no, no person deserved to suffer that much pain. What would he do now, surely the guards would arrive soon. Honestly, it didn't matter. He had achieved his goal. Maybe now his parent's, and the rest who had died then could actually rest in peace.   
  
Boots clacking along the marble hallway he exited. Everything finally finished. It was an odd feeling, yet his thirst for blood had not died when he had pulled the trigger, and seen the surprise on the man's face. The kill had been enjoyed. What to do now though?   
  
Reverently he ran his hand through his long platinum blond hair. The other people in the hallway didn't pay any attention to him as he left, and continued not to even as the shrieks of people's surprise could be heard.   
  
He threw his leg over the motorcycle and kick started it. The roar of the engine staking claim to the fact that it was indeed an excellent machine, and it peeled out of the driveway.   
  
Pain, he needed pain, not emotional pain, but physical pain. Something strong enough to block out what he had just done, and the fact that he didn't really care. Spilling the blood of innocents, and of honorible soldiers was different, that he felt remorse for. Killing a mass murderer however brought no such guilt, other than that he wasn't guilty for having done it. How incredibly stupid to feel guilty for not feeling guilty.   
  
The roar of the engine could only do so much as he sped down the road, he needed something loud, something insanely angry, maybe even something else completely worth killing. His ideas needed to be drowned out. They were ripping at him, and successfully shredding him to pieces within. Concentrating was an excedingly difficult problem. An urge to just clutch his head and scream came to him, but he successfully ignored it.   
  
Then without realizing it he laughed bitterly. What would his father say of him now? or his best friend for that matter? The poor girl, no woman, he had dragged her with him so many times. His emotions concerning her were scrambled to say the least, and he had reluctangly accepted her friendship, but now it felt as though it were something more.   
  
Death, blood, blackness, that's what his life was. Maybe all it would ever be. He grunted loudly, and turned away from the base, he couldn't go back just yet, so he popped a wheely going out of the lot, a small attempt to cease the raging storms within him.   
  
Something, just something, anything needed to be done. A purpose needed to be saught. Militarily he could achieve something, find something. Seeing red for to long would not be excepted. There were other goals not his own which needed to be achieved.   
  
He sped around quickly. She could quell this, she always could if he allowed it. Maybe now was the time to see if it still worked. If she could push things away, he could start to think again, to concentrate, to get rid of the anger, and the anguish. At least the air was clean here.   
  
4/26/02  
  



End file.
